


Thirty

by FrozenSnares



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cute, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, Swearing, obviously, shaggydog is the wingman, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 08:18:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6796459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenSnares/pseuds/FrozenSnares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaggydog always ends up meeting a ton of new people every time Rickon takes him out for a walk, but he somehow manages to seek out one girl significantly more than anyone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thirty

**Author's Note:**

> For an anon on tumblr who requested it.

Rickon whistled lightly, pulling the leash slightly to call Shaggydog back. Regardless of how trained his dog was inside, all bets were off the second they went out. It didn’t help that Shaggydog loved running, even more so than he was supposed to according to the internet. Daily walks were written into their routine for a very long time now.

Unfortunately, Rickon’s utter lack of control over his dog only ever happened when the worst witnesses were around. There were several people he would happily never run into again, and one that he held out hope for, even if their first nine meetings had been horrendous.

Rickon was lurched out of his thoughts when Shaggydog quickly changed directions, heading to the open field of the park. He knew this behavior well enough: Shaggydog wanted to run. Pulling a tennis ball out of his pocket, Rickon released Shaggydog’s leash and threw the ball out as far as he could. Shaggydog wasn’t particularly skilled at fetch, per se. As far as Shaggydog was concerned, if you threw the ball away, you didn’t want it anymore. Rickon knew that he’d spend the next twenty minutes chasing his dog around just to try and wrestle the tennis ball back.

It ended up being much sooner than that.

Rickon quickly managed to corner his dog before realizing that Shaggydog was more interested in greeting whoever was sitting at the bench. He wanted to whistle at his dog, but he didn’t want the sound to be taken the wrong way by the girl, who was obviously lost in her book. Rickon approached slowly, only speeding up when the girl yelped. She looked down at Shaggydog before visibly sighing.

“Why am I not surprised?” she said, reaching down to rub Shaggydog between the ears. “Where’s your owner?”

Rickon swore inwardly. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, hoping that this wouldn’t be as awkward as when he found Shaggydog’s snout shoved up her skirt. “Hey,” he called.

The girl grinned at him. “Hello, Mr. Sorry,” she greeted. “I found your pet again. Or rather, he found me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Rickon said for what he knew was the twenty-eighth time. Without fail, he ended up blurting out three apologies every time this happened. He would make it to thirty tonight.

“Ah, it’s So Sorry,” she said. “Nice to meet you, So.”

“I’m sorry,” Rickon repeated, preparing himself for the piercing stare of her dark blue eyes. He wasn’t much for swimming but he’d love to drown in those eyes every day for the rest of his life. However, the pressing discomfort of the situations in which they met had made it so he didn’t even ask her for her name. “Shaggy’s not usually this persistent.”

“Maybe Shaggy should be mine,” she replied, giving him a coy smile. “He definitely seems to love me more than you.”

Rickon swallowed down the immense feeling of cowardice rising in him. He could usually shoot back clever comments like the crack of a whip, but there was something about this girl that made it a near impossibility. He wasn’t about to waste that perfect set-up, though.

“Well, I haven’t gotten a chance to fall in love with you yet,” he said, hoping that he sounded confident, even if he didn’t feel it.

Her eyebrows shot up in an appraising look. “I don’t know, Mr. Sorry,” she said. “Considering how much sputtering happened over _this_ ,” she tapped her cheek, “I thought you didn’t even want a chance.”

“It wasn’t—” Rickon cut himself off immediately. “I didn’t just—” He swallowed hard, hoping that anything would come out of his mouth that wasn’t the word _sorry_. The look on her face was still challenging him, though, and Rickon needed something better to say. “At least let me make it up to you. How about dinner?”

“Oh?” she asked. “A date with Mr. Sorry… I think that would be a tempting offer…”

“ _Would?_ ” Rickon questioned. He felt his chances fading, and he at least wanted an explanation. Maybe he could use his last apology to smooth over his initial reaction to her face.

She stood up, giving Shaggydog another pet. “I think your wingman deserves to join us,” she said.

Rickon’s heart skipped a beat. “I know how to cook,” he said, hoping it was closer to what she wanted. It sounded a little creepy to just invite her straightaway to his place, though, and he quickly added on, “And there are some great dog-friendly restaurants in town.”

She smiled at him, and Rickon swore to the gods that her eyes were sparkling. “Now, _that’s_ what I like to hear,” she said.

“Which?” Rickon asked, his mind already racing through the many possibilities for their only loosely-planned date. He was already putting forth a lot of effort to keep both himself and his dog still.

“Maybe, I’ll let you know the next time you find me,” she said, winking at him. “I’m sure your wingman won’t let the opportunity pass.”

Rickon bit his lip, thinking that he would walk Shaggydog all over this damned city on his day off tomorrow just to find her again. He tried to play it cool. “What if I called you?”

“Called me what?” she asked back. He could see her toying with the book between her hands, and he wondered if she was acting the part just as much as he was.

“Whatever you’d like,” he offered, hoping for some brutal honesty to do the trick.

She feigned thought, walking in a slow circle around him. Shaggydog followed her obediently. “Well… I always wanted a nickname,” she said. “My name’s kinda weird.”

“Mine, too,” Rickon said, rolling his eyes lightly.

“I know,” she said, throwing him off. Then, she grinned at him. “Who names their kid _So_ when their last name is _Sorry_?”

“It’s, uh, it’s Rickon, actually,” he said.

“Rickon Sorry?” she asked, the grin growing wider.

“Rickon Stark.”

“A pleasure, Mr. Stark,” she said. “Turns out I wasn’t that far off.”

Rickon gave her a small smile, watching her fingers stretch down to comb through Shaggydog’s fur. “But if you want a nickname,” he said slowly, “I’ll need something to go off of.”

“ _Shireen_ ,” she said firmly. “Shireen Baratheon. Good luck.”

“Shireen Baratheon,” Rickon repeated. He mulled over it a bit, seeing her challenge coming right back. “Shireen… _Shireen_ …”

“Maybe I’ll give you until next time,” she said, spinning on her heel and taking a few steps away.

Rickon snapped back, not wanting to see her leave so soon. Shireen was already a few meters away, and he wanted to close that distance as quickly as possible. “Hey, wait up, Shir— _fuck_.”

Shaggydog’s leash was wrapped around his legs, preventing any kind of forward movement. He fell flat on his face, thankful that there was at least the cushion of grass. In the distance, he heard her giggles, but he knew that she was smarter than to just come back. Still, he was determined to find her tomorrow. Even if he had just completely messed up her name by adding an expletive to the end of it.

Something was off, though. Other than the obvious issue of having Shaggydog’s leash around his legs, there was something incomplete about the meeting. Sitting up, the thought came back, and Rickon almost laughed. “I’m sorry, Shir.”

Thirty.


End file.
